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[right][h2] MP-2011-JB; Justin Böhmer[/h2][/right]
[right][h2] [color=purple]Purple[/color] Containment - The Ward [/h2][/right]

[@BCTheEntity]

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From beyond the threshold of the perforated steel separating him from freedom and technology, the lanky young German soon started to hear voices. He yanked the fountain pen out of the lock and hid the fragments in his pocket as a young man appeared in the corridor.

"Yeah, my door isn't opening and I'm having trouble picking the lock. How did you get out?" He asked, taking a couple suspicious steps back from the door, his German accent colouring the words only lightly. He reached for the drawer in his desk and started retrieving what was left of his blank and lined paper supply, folding them up and stuffing them into his pockets, before packing up his pencils and his other pen. 

"Can you pick locks? Or kick doors really hard? Or something?"

He stuffed the half of his white-tac pack that remained into his other pocket, before looking around the room to see if there was anything else worth taking. The paper bin was probably a no, but the lamp might yet have some uses - so he went and picked it up before heading back to the door, slinging the power cable around his chest like a bandolier.

"Or... I dunno. Do some weird shit?"